First Day

         Greetings!  My name is Will Landers.  I’m the most recent graduate of Jacobson Business College, where I was able to obtain my Associates Degree in Applied Science in Business Administration.  That basically sums it all up.  Anything to do with business, I’m a pro.  I know everything.  After all, I did study the subject for eighteen months.  I even obtained my MOS Certifications in Word, Excel, Access, PowerPoint, and Outlook.  Tell me you’re not impressed.  Well the people at the temp agency are!  Nordby Staffing immediately placed me with Foster, Baker, & Roy.  They own a construction company where their main office is located in downtown.  I’m going to be the new Office Assistant.  That’s right.  I’m going to be working downtown with all of the bigwigs.  Heck, who am I kidding?!  I’m a bigwig now too!

         I enter the office and fix my tie.  I decided earlier that morning to dress for success.  Even though it was a job as an Office Assistant, who knows what opportunities might come my way.  They might like me so much that they decide to promote me on the spot.  Dress for the job you want, not the job you have.  That’s one of many things I learned at Jacobson Business College.  How could they not like me?  After all, I do have my MOS Certifications in Word, Excel, Access, PowerPoint, and Outlook.  Did I say that already?

         I wink at the lady running the front desk.  She’s kind of cute.  I find myself checking her finger for a ring.  Yep, she has a nice diamond on there.  That’s probably for the best.  I don’t want to start any office romances.  I hear those can get complicated.  The lady at the front smiles at me.  I smile in return.

          “Hi,” I greet her.  “My name's Will.  I’m starting today.  I’m supposed to see Mr. Larson.”

          She says, “Hi, I’m Mary Ann.  One moment please.”  She pages him.  Her phone rings and she picks it up.  After a few words she puts the phone down.  “Mr. Larson will be with you shortly.  He’s the office manager, but he’s in a meeting right now.  He said you can help me while you wait.”
         
          “I can help you with pretty much anything.  I have my Associates Degree in Business Administration.”

         “Great!” Mary Ann says excitedly.  “Do you know how to perform a mail merge from Word document?”

         “Ha!  Mail merging is child’s play,” I boast.  “Of course I know how to do it.  I actually have my MOS Certifications in Word, Excel, Access, PowerPoint, and Outlook.”

         “Great,” she tells me.  “I’ll have you do that for me next time.  Right now I’ll show you to your desk where you can put these address labels on these envelopes.  They need to go out today.”  She gives a short nod to a box of blue-backed envelopes on her desk.

         WHAT?!  I look at her funny to see if she is joking.  She doesn’t laugh like I expect her to.  I cringe.  I did not work my butt off for an entire eighteen months to put labels on envelopes.  I begin to protest, but she is already going through a door to the next room, beckoning me to follow.  I do so grudgingly.  Wait until Mr. Larson hears about this.

         Upon entry, anticipation greets my ears.  Hushed voices, maneuvering busy bodies, and pattering keyboards sends an excitement into the air.  I follow Mary Ann as we weave through the maze.  I acknowledge the few people who look in my direction.  Mary Ann sits me at a desk smack dab in the middle of the chaos.  She places the box of blue-backed envelopes on my desk and the labels next to them.  “All the envelopes are in alphabetical order and so are the labels.  Make sure that you don’t skip any or put anything out of order.  Very important.”

          “Thank you,” I tell her, slightly irritated.  She tells me to give them to her when I am done, and then excuses herself.  I watch her leave and roll my eyes.

         I look over my desk and find it equipped with numerous office supplies: staplers, hole punchers, pens, correction tape, etc.  It also comes with a Dell Computer.  It is a beautiful work of art.  I want to turn it on and experiment with it, but my eyes fall on the envelopes.

          A moan of frustration comes from the desk next to mine.  I eye the woman sitting there.  She seems to be doing a somewhat complicated looking report on Excel.  She smiles at me, nods at her computer, and says, “Tch!  Budgets.”

          I nod at my work.  “Tch!  Labels.”  She turns back to her work with a look of amusement on her face.  I turn back to mine.

          I grab the first envelope and peel off the first label.  This is retarded!  I should be doing the important things like budgets and um… that other stuff.

          I stick the label on, grab the second envelope, and peel off the second label.  I mean, I didn’t spend thousands of dollars at Jacobson Business College so that I could stick labels on freakin’ envelopes.

          I place the label on the second envelope, grab the third, and peel off the third label.  Shouldn’t a clerk be doing this?  I’m an Office Assistant, not the secretary’s underling.

          I shove the box away from me in disgust.  What does a front desk lady do anyway?  My grandmother could answer phones.  I was getting paid eleven dollars an hour for this.  Foster, Baker, & Roy should be getting their money’s worth.  I ask the lady at the next desk where the bathroom is.  She directs me to it.  I put the box and labels in one of the drawers.  I don’t want to leave it out.

          I walk slowly.  I splash water on my face slowly.  I urinate slowly.  I wash my hands slowly.  I dry my hands slowly.  I walk back to my desk slowly.  Everything is lagging.  I feel sedated.  I h---.

          “Hi,” a man says, standing over me.  “Are you Will?”

          “Hello,” I greet in return.  “Yes I am!”

         “Great!  I’m Paul Larson.  You can call me Paul.  You’ll be working under me.  I hear you know a lot about Microsoft Office.  I have a couple of projects for you to do.  But first, did you finish the assignment that Mary Ann gave you?”

         “Uh, yes!” I lie.  Finally, the chance to show what I can do.  I turn on the computer.  The log on noise sounds like angels.

         He has me create a spreadsheet showing the total amount of revenue made at each construction site.  I create a log sheet for people to fill in when they take supplies from the supply cabinet.  I go through records in Access and update employee information.  After I complete each task, Paul compliments me.
         
         I have lunch in the lounge.  I greet everyone there and do my best to make them laugh with a few corny office jokes.  First impressions are key.  My hour is up.  I return to work.  I love my new job.

         It is around three o’clock that Mary Ann comes up to me, panicked.  At this time, Mr. Larson is talking me through another project.

          “I really need those checks Will,” Mary Ann tells me.  “The last mail run leaves in fifteen minutes.”

          “Checks?” I say confused.  “What checks?”

          “The payroll checks I gave you this morning.  The one you put the address labels on.  Did you put them on my desk?  I didn’t see them.”

          Oh, shit!  “I... uh,” I start.  I can’t think of what to say.  Paul looks at me funny.

          “You did mail out the payroll checks, right?” Paul asked me.  “Mary Ann’s the head of Payroll.  She needed help this morning since her assistant left last week.”

          Oh, shit!  “I... uh,” I start again.  I face the music.  I open the drawer that I had shoved the checks in.  I show Paul the three envelopes with labels.  Paul is angry.

          “We have over two hundred employees that we need to mail checks to!” he says heatedly.  “You told me this morning that you finished this!  Do you realize what will happen if these people don’t get paid tomorrow?  Do you know how many calls we’ll get?”

          “I’m sorry,” I croak.  Mary Ann grabs the envelopes and labels and walks away.

          “Go help her,” Paul tells me.  I obey.

          Mary Ann and I are only able to finish half of the envelopes before the last mail run.  I don’t say a word to anyone for the rest of the day.  Neither Paul nor Mary Ann says anything to me.  Their piercing eyes say enough.  A knot forms in my stomach.  I want to leave.  I don’t want to be here.

          Five o’clock comes around.  I sneak out unnoticed.  I catch the bus home.  I’m totally bummed.  After a brief talk with my mom I go straight to sleep.

          Morning comes and I open my eyes reluctantly.  I wonder whether I should go back today.  I don’t want to, but mom said when I got home last night that she was going to start charging me rent.  I have to go.  I dress reluctantly.  I arrive at my job five minutes late.  Paul makes me file all day.  Fuck this place.

*          *          *

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